


You Can't Get Away With That...Right?

by Sinbirdy



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Rhys (Borderlands), Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Humiliation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Top Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinbirdy/pseuds/Sinbirdy
Summary: Rhys wants Jack to humiliate him, somehow, and it turns out Jack's idea of humiliation is fingering him in the middle of a business party...
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	You Can't Get Away With That...Right?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lost_Elf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/gifts).



> A little summin' summin' for @Lost_Elf

It wasn't a surprise when Jack snuck up behind Rhys during the business function with his cock straining in the confines of his suit pants, pushing himself against Rhys and growling into his ear. It wasn't a surprise when his hand gripped Rhys' hips possessively to keep him close, easier to grind against and practically fuck then and there, if Jack's breathy moans were any indication of his arousal. Rhys could feel Jack staring at him earlier, like a wild animal finding its prey. It felt like his eyes were branding irons. While people around them enjoyed the formal cocktail party, clinking glasses and schmoozing higher ups best they could, Jack took pleasure in admiring his favourite employee looking as delectable as humanly possible…

Everyone knew Rhys and Jack were fucking. Sure, their relationship status wasn't confirmed, but Jack was hardly a man of subtlety, and he thrived off watching others squirm in uncomfortable situations. Rhys was one of those situations. Having him come up from under the desk when people walked into the office, groping his ass when he'd be bent over something like a desk or printer-- hell, Jack would even mention at the start of meetings how he'd be walking funny after a crazy weekend of round the clock sex, following his statement by winking at Rhys for everyone to see.

Rhys was often supporting a fiery blush but make no mistake, he loved the spotlight. He got off on Jack making a fuss of him and parading their sexual thrills as much as Jack did, no matter how much he rolled his eyes or told Jack to stop. It would be a lie to say he didn't encourage the older man to make his advances and push the standards of common courtesy at every given moment, because he absolutely did.

That's why he wore his tightest tartan capri pants and silk shirt with way too many buttons undone, revealing the geometric blue tattoo on his chest. He wore something sleek and sexy, something he knew would have Jack howling like a wolf in heat. He gelled his hair back and wore the faintest amount of eyeliner on his waterline, and topping it all off with a golden chain around his neck - that of which was a gift from Jack ("for having the 2nd best dick on Helios" according to the card). He felt like sex on legs.

So he took great pride watching with a smug grin when Jack first spotted him at the bar nursing a dry martini. No words between them, no agreement, no exchange other than dark eyes and the hope that they'd have their usual fun, even at a company get together.

Hence Jack pressed against him, an hour after the initial spotting.

"Are you trying to make me blow my load the second I see you these days?" Jack growled against Rhys' ear. He had him pushed up against the illuminous yellow bar, and no care for the employees around glancing over to watch their CEO practically dry hump dainty, lanky Rhys, their co-worker. All that mattered was the breathless moan Rhys held back by biting his lip.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I'm just enjoying my drink…"

"Sure, sure...well I'm impatient and horny, so how would you feel about being fucked in the coat closet right now?" He laughed a little on the tail end of the question, but he was absolutely serious. Rhys was glad, because he absolutely wanted that...but not tonight.

He wanted something else. Something much more taboo and humiliating.

Because as much as he enjoyed Jack boastfully paraded their sex life like the whole of Helios had subscribed to a newsletter about it, the fact of the matter was Jack actually treated Rhys like royalty, and maintained to not actually do anything explicitly sexual in public. Caught in the act? Yes. Side eyes sneaking away to fuck? Absolutely. Straight up tearing each other's clothes off when all eyes are on them? Rhys was sad to say it hasn't happened.

 _Yet_.

So when Jack's peppering his neck in kisses and grinding against the crease of his ass, Rhys thinks maybe tonight he can break those barriers. He wanted to feel engulfed in heat, sweating as the embarassment wrapped around his throat and choked him out. He wanted to bound through the lustful euphoria and surrender to his desperation while everyone judged his heated depravity.

"We'll miss the party though…" he looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue between his teeth as he admired Jack's almost aggressive demeanor. He hoped Jack could read his mind, but the stupid, clueless gaze said otherwise.

"Is that a bad thing, kitten?" He tugged Rhys' hip encouragingly but seemed his favourite employee was persistent to stay at the bar. "You really care about schmoozing with my ass kissing worker bees?"

Rhys turned so they were facing one another. He tried his best to act coy, soft, but he felt like he must have looked more stupid than anything.

"I just think it's important to stay. You have to make some kind of yearly quota of mingling with your staff. But I still like the idea of having fun…"

Jack insisted Rhys was sexy, but he felt more like a cheesy porno actress than a bashful lover. Still, seemed the wires hadn't connected for Jack as he stared blankly at Rhys, mouth open like a real imbecile.

"Oh, you must think I'm such a slut," Rhys continued. He wasn't sure why he was still talking, in all honesty, but that cocky, impulsive part of his brain was insisting that playing up an act was the best way to get what he wanted. "Still wanting you, even when everyone is here to see...how humiliating!" He theatrically threw his hand up against his forehead and expressed something akin to shame. Maybe Jack would take the hint.

"I uh, I'm a little lost, Rhysie. Should I stop? I know I'm like a God, I could take whatever I want, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable--"

"No, Jack! I--" Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. Jack looked like someone had told him he was living inside a simulation or something crazy. Rhys looked down at their feet and sighed, his hands going to play with the belt loops of Jack's suit pants. "I'm trying to be... you know, sexy. Do something new-- after all, you love making people jealous about us, right?"

Jack squinted. "Yeeeeeah?"

"You like when people are looking, right?"

"Get to the point, princess."

Rhys rolled his eyes, groaning. "Forget it, it's embaressing, I don't-"

"No no, hold on, don't dismiss me." Jack leaned in so he was pushed up against Rhys, the bulge in his pants pressed against the semi Rhys was supporting. His jaw was cocked, and he looked angry. It made Rhys' heart flutter, his stomach tighten. Jack had one hand against the bar behind him and the other slowly moving up to Rhys' chin, tilting his head upward. His thumb moved to Rhys' lip. "I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me." His lips curled mischievously so, and Rhys couldn't help suck in suddenly.

"I...it's…"

"You're pretty when you blush."

"I'm sorry."

Jack laughed, pulling down lightly on Rhys' bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Absolutely no need to apologise, dumb dumb. I like it." He clicked his tongue, and if the look meant anything, Rhys practically saw the lightbulb above his head. "I think I know now."

"You know wh--"

But he was cut off by Jack's forefinger against the centre of his lips, silencing him. He looked around them, then with no words of confirmation, pressed two fingers inside Rhys' mouth. Rhys took them no problem, but his eyes were wide with alarm. Jack had thick fingers. Rhys couldn't help but run his tongue under the soft pads and slowly wrap around them, slithering between the gap and soaking them best he could. That's what Jack wanted, if his expression meant anything.

"Excuse me for being kinda slow, would ya, pumpkin?" Jack chuckled. He used his thumb to stroke Rhys' cheek. "Was too busy thinking how good you'd look against the wall of the tiny coat closet, getting railed like fucking crazy…" he pushed his fingers in harder, loving the quiet noise that came out of Rhys. The younger man looked shell-shocked, but the shade of pink growing over his cheeks was a good sign. "You want everyone to see you though, don't you? See how you lose your mind when I make you cum... alright, princess, I'll play ball. Finish sucking my digits so I can finger you right here, right now."

Rhys looked over Jack's shoulder. He could see a pair of eyes squinting their way, and he was sure the bartender had seen how intensely they were pressed against each other let, alone the fingers in the mouth situation. Sure, Hyperion employees had learned to adjust to the horny antics of the pair, but it didn't mean people weren't still shocked or awkward when forced to be a spectator.

Rhys looked back at the sinister stare Jack gave him and focused all his energy, moaning under his breath as Jack actually managed to press himself closer to Rhys. His tongue laved over the webbing between the older man's index and middle finger, chasing the faint sweaty taste up to the fingertips and sliding his mouth around them. He burned up as his eagerness blossomed, and Jack while enjoying the scene of submission pressed his fingers down on Rhys' tongue just to make him struggle.

Rhys really could get lost staring at Jack, tracing every line of his face, tearing himself open on the razor sharp lines of his jaw. Jack watches Rhys, proud, growling softly when Rhys rewards him by sucking more enthusiastically. He's really working to make Jack's fingers wet.

Then Jack pulled them out, drool breaking between the digits, his thick fingers glossy from the saliva. He aggressively turned Rhys around. He pushed him against the bar edge - no concern for the suffocation of Rhys' organs getting squished - and slipped his hand down the back of Rhys trousers and underwear. He positioned himself to half-heartedly hide the exhibition, but it probably wasn't hard for anyone to see if they looked hard enough. Rhys yelped when Jack spared no time moving his fingers between Rhys warm cheeks. Just the presence before he's even pushed inward made him gasp inwardly.

Jack used his other hand to grab Rhys by the jaw, and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Is this what you wanted, kitten?" His eyes lit up alongside the dastardly smirk winding its way around his dimples tighter. Emphasised by a grunt, Jack pressed his forefinger slowly against the tight muscle of his ass and teased the sensitive spot. Rhys' knees buckled, and by the sound of his impressed snicker, Jack was pleased. "Can't believe that cute freakin' face of yours could deceive me so bad…"

"What do you--" Rhys gasped inwardly and his toes curled inside his shoes, pushing back involuntarily against Jack's thick finger as he hooked it to find Rhys' spot. He was close. "How did I deceive you?"

Jack leaned in close. His bottom lip looked so inviting. "You're just way too precious to be as damn kinky as you are! I mean-- getting fingered by your boss in front of all your coworkers? Credit where credit is due, kiddo, you're a ballsy slut!"

The emphasis on that word, it made Rhys' eyes draw to the middle. His eyes fluttered closed as he dug his nails into the wood of the bar, and he found a timid rhythm to rocking his hips alongside Jack’s hand.

He needed more lube, for sure, but the tender burn from skin on skin did twist Rhys' insides up the best way imaginable. When Jack decided to slide in his second finger, the pain escalated, and Rhys had to cover his own mouth as an inhuman, feral moan worked its way up.

"You're so god damn tight, d'ya know that?!" Jack grunted out through gritted teeth. He flexed the muscle of his bicep and pushed in harder. His thumb and fingers cupped around the fat of Rhys' asscheeks were developing raw nail marks. Rhys could melt right there under Jack’s control if it were possible. The saliva did near to nothing in helping, and if anything Rhys was just missing having his fingers to suck on.

"Fuck, handsome…" The words came out exhausted like he'd run a marathon. There was no better sound to hear from Jack's point of view. As Jack continued to circle his fingers inside Rhys' tight hole, he nursed the scotch drink the bartender had (notably awkwardly) given him, and looked around the scene nonchalantly. Rhys had his fists balled up as the pleasure built up. How could Jack finger fuck him so skillfully out in public, without looking even the slightest bit fazed?

But then Jack made a shocked yelp as he sipped, and slammed the drink down to call someone over. When Rhys heard the name "Vasquez" yelled out theatrically, he bolted up right, damn near ready to castrate Jack...

Only to be seized by submission when Jack crooked his finger and pushed against his prostate harder. Rhys moaned out lightly and gritted his teeth in annoyance when Jack gazed over to wink.

"You called, sir?" Hugo stood at Jack's opposing side, and resisted looking at the younger man; too busy imagining sucking Jack off, Rhys thought. Rhys would call him pathetic for being such a suck up, running to Jack's beckon call in hopes of a reward, but Rhys used to be just as desperate for validation, and it did lead him to situations like Jack fingering him enthusiastically in the presence of all of Hyperion.

Jack hummed, looking up and down Hugo. "Yeah, talk to me about the reports you filed for product testing on Hybridfication sniper rifles, would ya?" Jack grinned playfully, and tugged Rhys in so he was more involved in the conversation, now sandwiched between Jack and the bar, instead of rammed up against it. Hugo grimaced when he caught Rhys' fiery flushed expression.

"What is it you would like to know, sir? Was the paperwork not to your lik--"

"Slow your roll there, bucko, I was just talking to our lovely friend, Rhysie, here, and he said he loved the way you organise your work." Jack laughed in Rhys' direction before abruptly stopping to state down Hugo. He was intimidating, but in such a demanding, powerful way, it made people crave his approval. Hugo's intimidation, of whatever he was trying to portray, was fierce competition, and thinking Rhys admires him in such a way did nothing but boost his inflated confidence.

"Ah well...I suppose if it'll be good for Rhys to hear, I can retell how i--"

"Sure sure, quit peacocking and get to the point."

As soon as Hugo began recounting every miniscule detail, his smug grin like razors pulling through Rhys' ears, Jack took it upon himself to really turn up the heat. He knew Rhys' body better than he knew his own, and so with every dull note Hugo offered up, Jack was sure to crook his finger and push up hard to make Rhys' knees wobble. The plan was clear: Rhys was to cum in front of Hugo just via Jack fingering him.

Jack had picked up a decent rhythm while calculating ticking lust fueled brain. He leaned in close, breathing hot and heavy over Rhys ear with no regard for Hugo's presence. He was having too much fun watching Rhys' twitchy face, listening to the shallow breaths disguising his soft moans. Jack would happily throw Rhys on the bar top then and there to fuck him if he had his way. He of course settled for scissoring his heat, ignoring the pulsing of his own cock every time Rhys would push back down on him, trying with all his might to maintain subtlety.

What was Hugo talking about? The most efficient way to fax things? Jack just blocked him out. He leaned in close to Rhys' ear as Hugo stopped to take a sip of his drink:

"How do you think Vasquez would look if you gave him a facial?"

Rhys stuttered loudly and grasped at the bar ledge suddenly as his body shook. He was close. Jack smirked. Hugo raised a brow but didn't pay much attention as he began rambling about his worth ethic. Jack would shoot him dead then and there if Rhys wasn't so unbelievably red listening to the pompous idiot at hand. The same idiot he was more than likely thinking about cumming all over.

There was no disguising Jack's frantic arm movement tucked away behind Rhys. Anyone with a brain cell could see what was happening. Hugo seemingly was so high on the air in his own head he didn't realise, even when staring at Rhys' deep red, embarrassed face. Did he know? Was he actively ignoring it just to stay in Jack's vicinity? Maybe. It didn't matter-- all that mattered was the growing ache twisting Rhys gut as he got agonisingly close to his orgasm.

Jack's fingers pushed in deep. He held the tips of his fingers against Rhys' sensitive prostate longer, and breathed down the back of his neck with a promise of sensational lust awaiting them later, in privacy. Rhys tried so hard to hold out, to best Jack and keep the foreplay going, but when Hugo turned away distracted by a collection of laughs, Jack took the opportunity to bite Rhys' earlobe and crooked his fingers in just the right way…

And Rhys stammered as he came hard, knees giving out beneath him. He caught himself on the bar edge thankfully, as well as Jack having both hands on his arms fast as lightening. He came prepared with a humorous grin to cover up their indiscretions. Rhys felt like he'd blacked out, but he could clearly make out the confused and dismissive look on Hugo's face, and everyone else's disgusted, confused glances.

Rhys was... _mortified,_ and that was absolutely what he wanted (minus the bumbling idiot stood before him).

Before Hugo could speak again. Jack cut in. "Alright, your purpose is fulfilled, wallet head. Beat it!"

He scurried away, of course, and when alone, Rhys felt his whole body tense like a bolt of lightening had struck every single one of his bones. He whipped around to Jack and glared at his devilish smirk.

"Hugo?! Of all people, _Hugo_?!"

"The goal was to embarrass you, sweet cheeks. How'd it feel to jizz your delicates while Vasquez stood less than 10 inches away?"

Rhys gulped. "Humiliating…"

"Then I'd call that a success! Now...how'd you feel about the coat closet?"


End file.
